Crocodile's Dirty Movie
by Beanstalks
Summary: Baroque Works needs to make extra money, so Crocodile and Miss All Sunday star in their amateur film. Filming nearly becomes impossible due to Mr. 3's directing. One-shot, Complete.


**Okay, so I got the idea from TvTrope's Wild Mass Guessing entry for One Piece. Check TvTropes out, people; the WMG are quite hilarious. For example, did you know that Glinda the good witch from the Wizard of Oz movie was evil? Actually, you probably did, considering what an unhelpful jerk she is.**

Mr. 3 readied the camera.

"Lights!" Miss Goldenweek said, pointing her paintbrush at Mr. 5 and the lights he controlled.

"Goldenweek, you can't be here!" Mr. 3 yelled.

"Aw..."

With Goldenweek gone and the stage set up, Mr. 3 turned the camera on.

The stage looked like a quaint suburban home's living-room. A white door was by Mr. 3's right side, and an arch leading into the kitchen to his left.

Sir Crocodile walked on-stage. He was dressed in his traditional clothing, except wearing a striking purple cape, shades and a purple fedora with a feather at the top.

"_Gee, it sure is boring around here_," he said, looking at the title cards held up by Miss Doublefinger.

"Stop looking at the cards," Mr. 3 whispered to him. "Just remember your lines."

"_Boy, I am sure in the mood for-_"

The doorbell rang.

"Miss, honey, not yet," Doublefinger called to her.

"Oh, sorry," came Miss All Sunday's voice, from behind the door.

"Let's try that again," Mr. 3 said with a sigh. "And..._action_!"

"_Boy, I'm sure in the mood for a personal party, if you know what I mean._" Crocodile said, winking suggestively at the camera.

The doorbell rang.

"_Oh, who could it be?_"

Crocodile ripped though the door with his hook.

"Who's not supposed to do that!" Mr. 3 whispered to Doublefinger. "Doesn't he know how much this costs?"

"Relax, just make a new one," Doublefinger responded.

Miss Valentine's camera was turned on, now focusing on Miss All Sunday, standing in the door way.

All Sunday was wearing stilettos, black fishnets, a miniskirt and a corset that showed off her chest. She wore a cowboy hat that matched her purple clothes.

She used her Devil Fruit powers to have one eye watch the script in the dressing-room, allowing her to read her lines.

"_Oh, please help me, sir,_" she said, her voice stilted.

"_What seems to be the matter, little girl?_" Crocodile said, staring down at her chest.

"_I'm a poor little runaway, and I need a place to say...Please, take me in._"

"_Oh, I'll take you all right._"

All Sunday gave a dull moan as Crocodile hooked his...hook around her corset and hurled her onto a lemon-colored couch.

"Hey, that hurt!" she said, clearly displeased.

"_Sorry._"

"Cut!" Mr. 3 cried. "Valentine, Valentine, _cut_!"

"What's the bid deal?" Crocodile snapped at him.

"You're ruining my _shot_!"

"So?"

"So? _So? _I want my film to be _perfect_!"

Miss Double finger sighed. Crocodile sighed. Miss All Sunday sighed. Everyone else sighed. Mr. 3 didn't sigh.

"Alright, from the top," Mr. 3 announced. "Aaaand..._action!_"

They re-enacted Crocodile and All Sunday's exchange. Afterwards, Crocodile grabbed her by the waist and gently hurled her on to the lemon-colored couch.

"I _love_ the color of that couch," Miss Valentine said to herself.

"Shut _up_, Valentine," Mr. 3 murmured to her.

Crocodile and All Sunday began to do their act. They did...things. _Horrible, horrible _things. Things that would not be possible if not for their Devil Fruit powers and a lot of Mr. 3's wax.

"Cut!" Mr. 3 roared.

"What _now?_" Crocodile snapped. "I thought it was perfect!"

"It was meh," All Sunday muttered.

"No, no," Mr. 3 said. He pointed at All Sunday and yelled, "One of Miss All Sunday's arms is covering her face."

"Oh, come _on_," All Sunday snapped.

Crocodile said, "Whatever! Let's just get on with it."

"_Please._"

So back to the scene. They were back to their unholy acts when...

"CUT!"

"Oh, come _on_!" Miss Valentine snapped. "It was getting good!"

"I didn't know Miss All Sunday could _do _that," Mr. 5 said, his boom mike in his hands and over the actors' heads.

"Mr. 0, Sie," Mr. 3 pleaded. "Stop making that face! We want our audience aroused, not falling on the floor laughing!"

"This is our submission to _Alabasta's Funniest Home Videos _all over again," Miss Merry Christmas moaned.

"And another thing," Mr. 3 added. "Miss All Sunday, your moaning is completely unbelievable!"

"That's because I'm not believing," Miss All Sunday said flatly.

"Aaaaaand..."

"What do you mean, _you're not believing_?" Crocodile snapped at her.

"_ACTION!_"

They once again re-enacted the scene. After several hours, they finished the deed.

By now, every single one of the crew members, having witnessed their acts, were horrified. Many even threw up at the very sight.

All but Miss Valentine, who had a gleeful look on her face.

"CUT, PRINT, PERFECT!" Mr. 3 cried. Then he threw up.

"I think you poisoned me with your hook," Miss All Sunday said to him as they cleaned up.

"You'd know if I poisoned you," Crocodile said as he buttoned up his shirt. "It was fun, but back to work."

"And let's never speak of this again; I want to repress these thoughts as deep into my mind as possible."

"Was it good for you, too?"

"_Repress_ these thoughts as _deep as possible_."

"Mr. 3, I think we have a problem," Miss Valentine said, sounding worried.

Mr. 3 got up and said, "What is it?"

Valentine seethed and said, "Um, this little red light just turned on, it said 'recording.' I'm not sure if I got anything-"

_**"Oh, for the love of-"**_


End file.
